


my blade on your throat, your fist in my heart

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, and probably other things, rating for violence just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: there's a fine line between love and hate.for me, it's drawn in your flesh and blood.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65
Collections: Those Who Drabble in the Dark





	my blade on your throat, your fist in my heart

**Author's Note:**

> **prompt:** "it's time to dance" (200-500 words) - as part of the TWDITD funzies on felannie discord

He sharpens his blade today.

He watches the edge grate over the whetstone, his heart beating in slow rhythm to his back and forth movement. His smile deepens as the metal reveals itself, a silver shine as bright as the gleam in his eyes.

How much blood has this lance tasted? How much death has this lance brought forward? How much _more_ does it need before it’s satisfied?

How much more does _he_ need before _he_ is satiated? How much more until he has righted the wrongs? Until he has taken away for what was taken from him?

So what if they think he is a monster? The only way to defeat one is to become one.

And she — Edelgard von Hresvelg — is the most hegemonic.

She is a parasite of his generosity, a predator of his faith. If he is to ever be released from the darkness, he needs to rid himself of her — even if it means ripping his own heart from his chest.

The dull sound of friction draws his attention back. The stone is dry. The metal is exposed.

Less is more, he reminds himself. After all, a weapon doesn’t need to be sharp when it has the brute force of his anger behind it.

...

She looks ever beautiful today.

She stands before him, adorned in a red dress and golden horns.

Perhaps she intends to die pretty. Soaked in the crimson sunset and her warm blood.

Dimitri thinks any shade of red suits her.

Today, he will taste her sweet blood — a red wine he has aged with his rage, one he has craved ever since seeing her violet eyes behind that smiling mask. Today, he will caresses her skin — not gentle and tender with the tips of his fingers, but armored and fatal with the tip of his blade.

The thought thrills him. A smile curves over his lips as he imagines the metal — _his teeth_ — sinking into her neck. Hard enough to take blood, soft enough to ensure suffering. Her moans as his lance — _he_ — penetrates her body.

He can barely hold in his excitement. Laughter gurgles at the back of his throat.

“Are you ready, Dimitri?” she asks. “You can always stand aside. I do not intend to harm you given you choose not to interfere with my plans. I give you this one last chance now. Will you take it?”

But why take her hand now? Over and over, he has offered his hand to her, and she has never taken his.

Insanity would be expecting anything different.

His smile widens. He lowers the point of his lance toward her — clean and sharp.

“Care for a dance, El?” he asks her.

This will end how it began.

There’s a small frown on her lips that she flattens into apathy. She lifts her axe, perching it onto her shoulder. Her eyes harden, and she nods. Ready.

“Lead with your right,” she simply reminds him.

**Author's Note:**

> not sure what came over me. you know where to direct your complaints:
> 
> twitter @ napsbeforesleep  
> discord @ ahumanintraining#2153  
> pillowfort @ ahumanintraining


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